


Hang in there

by MurderedByFanfiction



Series: Creek Oneshots [6]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Men Crying, Pain, Protective Craig, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 22:16:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderedByFanfiction/pseuds/MurderedByFanfiction
Summary: Read the tags!!!!I figured that since I put Tweek through the pain of losing Craig I would do the same thing to Craig. This is the outcome. Its arguably worse that what i did before.There is a very vivid suicide attempt in this.Please please do not read if you will be triggered.





	Hang in there

**Author's Note:**

> Again, please do not read if you will be triggered.

“Tweek?” Craig yelled, running up the steps, a loud thumping sound following each step he takes. “Where are you?!” He yells again, becoming more frantic when he isn’t given a response. “Baby, please!” He screams, desperation slipping through his voice. He thuds down the hallway, the short feet between the stairs and Tweek’s bedroom door suddenly feels like thousands of miles. Craig, finally, reaches the door.

He stops, his feet suddenly becoming cement blocks, and he stares. The door isn’t closed all the way, and he can see inside the room. He can see Tweek. He jerks into motion, his feet becoming light just as fast as they had became heavy. The door slams into the wall, the drywall cracking and crumbling in small pieces to the ground.

He grabs Tweek’s legs, holding him up, while he frantically tries to unknot the noose the was pulled tightly against Tweek’s purpling neck. He screams in frustration tears sliding down his face as he fumbles with the knot. He screams again when he can’t pull the knot apart, a scream of a wounded animal, fearing for its life, or in this case, for its lovers life. He belts out a sob, frantically looking around the room, tears blocking his vision, his hold still tight on Tweek’s legs even as his arms shake with exertion of keeping the body up. He yells again, hoping someone can hear him, someone can help him, help Tweek. “Chair!” He yells, his eyes focusing on the rolling chair, kicked behind where Tweek’s body hung. He stretches his leg out, crying out as his arms burn fiercely with pain of overexertion, and reaches to the chair.

He stretches, and stretches more, he reaches further than he ever believed possible, yet he can't reach. It’s too far. He chokes on a sob. “Please.” He whispers to the empty room. His face, now red and his cheeks covered in fast falling tears, drops and he clenches his eyes closed. He knows what he has to do.

He lets go.

Tweek’s body jerks down, and begins swinging slowly from the force. Craig leaps over the few feet to the chair and is back under Tweek in several seconds. He stands on the chair, letting out a yell when it starts to slide, and frantically pulls the rope from where it is tied. Craig lets out a yell as he pulls the rope, pulling all of the strength he has in his body into the pull. The ceiling cracks, and then, like a miracle, the fixture the rope was tied to breaks, and Tweek’s body falls. Craig reaches out quickly, to catch Tweek, and lets out a sob when he misses by a millisecond, Tweeks body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Craig falls off of the chair in his rush to get to Tweek, he slams into the ground and pain blossoms across his body where it makes contact with the ground. He ignored it, and instead pulls Tweek into his lap, running his hands over his dark purple neck; Craig fumbles with his hand, and presses two fingers against his neck. “Oh god.” Craig breathes out, his eyes filling with more tears. Tweek’s pulse. **_thump. thump. thump._** Craig breathes in. And out. He watches Tweek, reveling in each motion Tweeks chest makes as he breathes.

“I gotta call. Call 911. Gotta call.” Craig jolts, his hand scrambling for a moment as he yanks his phone out of his pocket. He calls 911, gives them the address, and tells them what happened, but he doesn't recall any of it. He hangs up, unsure if they need more information, and throws the phone down, wrapping both arms around Tweek, cradling him close. He rocks slowly, his face buried in Tweeks hair, ugly harsh sobbing comes from him, shaking both his and Tweeks body, tears causing Tweek’s hair to matt to his head.

“How-” Craig’s voice breaks harshly, a whine comes out, a painful sound. “How could you?” Craig sobs again, louder, and it grates against his throat, burning. “Tweek!” Craig crys. “I fucking love you.” He barely manages to get the final sentence out in between his cries. He rocks, and he cries, and he watches Tweek breathe. He knows there isn't anything more he can do. So he waits, and rocks, and cries. He reaches up to Tweek’s face, and brushes his fingers across his cheeks. He soothes down Tweek’s hair, and he wipes his tears from Tweek’s face.

He doesn't know how long he sits there, it feels like eternity, an eternity in hell. The ambulance finally arrives, he knows because he hears the siren, and sees the lights flashing across Tweek’s face. The medics come in, the front door left open, and yell for a location. Craig lets out a loud sob, and yells, no words manage to come out, but the medics still find him in the bed room. They pull him away from Tweek, and he fights them, he pulls that their hands, and throws blind punches, because even through all of the chaos in the room the only thing he sees is Tweek. Tweek. Tweek is laid, carefully, on a gurney, and a the medics fight over if they should put a neck brace on. They don’t. They slowly, ever so gently, wheel Tweek out of the room.

Craig sobs, and he looks to the person holding him, his eyes pleading, and he sobs again.

“Tweek.” Craig manages to say between his body racking sobs. “Please.” The medic says something. Craig doesn't hear him, he can't hear anything over the sound of his own crying. “Please.” He begs one last time. The medic looks at him with a pitying look, a knowing look, and nods, no words are spoken after that. Craig is let go, and he runs, he flies down the first few steps, he misses one, and he slips.

He slides down the few steps to the bottom, and someone yells at him, asking if he is okay. He keeps moving. He gets up quickly and rushes out of the house, the paramedics wait for him. Tweek is already in the ambulance, but they haven't left. They were waiting for Craig. He lets out a thankful cry, and jumps into the back of the ambulance, skipping the ledge they have to help people get in. He sits next to Tweek, his hands quickly latching on to Tweek’s own hands.

He stares, breathing heavily, and tears continue to fall. A medic covers him in a blanket, one of the ugly bright orange ones, he lets out a harsh laugh, mixed with a sob. Tweek would have laughed if he saw Craig with that ugly blanket over him. The medics sit back, there is nothing more they can do for Tweek in the ambulance, and monitor his vitals. They ask Craig several times if he has any injuries and he ignores them for the first three times. They ask again, and Craig thinks of the disappointed look of Tweek, and begrudgingly tells them of his fall, both from the chair and down the steps.

They look at him with pitiful faces, sorrow hidden carefully, and offer him a pain reliever. He feels no pain. He shakes his head, words suddenly hard, and continues to stare at Tweek. His constant breathing, and the way his lips are parted, and the bruises standing harshly on his neck, his fingers which had become red from how tightly Craig was holding him. He loosened his hold. They arrive at the hospital, they go through hallway after hallway, Craig still holds Tweek’s hand, still watches Tweek. They arrive at a set of double doors and they tell him he has to wait here.

“No.” He states simply, still watching Tweeks chest move. The security guards are called and he is pulled to a chair, screaming the entire way. Tweek is wheeled through the doors and Craig loses sight of him, he lets out a broken sob, and then another, until he is cry as hard as he has ever cried.

“I thought he died. I thought i was too late. H-he, I thought.” He croaks out, his hands pressed against his face. Several nurses come over and try to console him, but they fail. Only Tweek would make this better. An hour passes, and Craig is unable to cry anymore. He breathes out an even breath, and promptly passes out.

**********************************

“Sir.” Craig is jerked into consciousness. He bolts straight up, grabbing onto the doctor in front of him before he even realizes he did. He lets go, and stumbles back, a broke apology slipping from his lips. The doctor smiles, understanding.

“He is okay. We will be monitoring him for 72 hours…” The doctor continues to explain the situation, but Craig stops listening. “I need to see him.” He blurts, interrupting the doctor. The doctor stops speaking, seeming to have expected the interruptions and begins explaining that he needs to finish the 72 hours period first.

“I don't think you understand,” Craig states, walking forward into the doctors face. “He needs to see me.” The doctor cuts off, his mouth closing with a click, and he stares, looking for something on Craigs determined face. The doctor nods, and Craig backs up, breathing a sigh of relief. He is lead through more hallways, the constant white walls and smell of bleach following him, and then he is stopped in front of a door.

The doctor says more, but he ignores him, uncaring of how rude he is being. And he walks into the room.

“Tweek.” Craig breathes out, moving on autopilot to Tweek’s side. Tweek had a oxygen mask on, the purple on his neck seeming to stand out more in the white light, and his beautiful, stunning, eyes were open, and tracking Craigs movements. Craigs eyes fill, and tears begin pouring down his cheeks. Tweek reaches a hand out, and Craig pushes his face into it, smiling softly at Tweek.

“It’ll be okay, Tweek.” He whispers, kissing Tweek’s palm. His tears fall onto Tweek’s hand, but Tweek doesn't seem to care, and he rubs his thumb over Craigs cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you guys want more painful fics like this!~~


End file.
